He was glad he finally went through with it, sitting there by himself, naked, in a clothes-optional bar.
He sipped his White Russian, once in a while spoke to the male bartender just to make conversation. There was a basketball game on TV, the two spoke about that.
Jarod sipped his drink, watched TV like there was nothing out of the ordinary about this night. But there was. He was naked.
He was sitting on a bar stool in public, naked.
He did it to get it out of his system. He wanted to feel what it was like to be naked in front of a bar room full of clothed women.
He wanted them to stare, to make comments, to compliment. He had a girlfriend, but this was a different type of arousal that he could not get from that relationship.
Being naked in front a clothed female stranger was something he had to experience.
The only bad thing was that the room was empty. There were a few dudes across the room at the other bar also naked, and flabby. Maybe they were keeping the women away.
There was a bachelorette party going on in the other room, the women at that party dancing the night away, without Jarod. He didn't have the guts to go out on a dance floor naked. He wanted a woman to politely sit down next to him in this nearly empty room, have some small talk.
It seemed that might not happen on this night, until Carrie walked in.
She was a brunette, she was hot, she was big-chested, she had great legs, she was clothed. She walked up to the bar and shouted at the bartender, her voice having not yet adjusted to the quietness of the room.
She must have been out on the loud dance floor, where you had to scream to be heard. She ordered two Coronas, one for herself, one for her friend.
She stood next to Jarod, who ever so casually let his arms fall to his sides so she could see his naked crotch area. He kept looking at the television, not wanting to seem too desperate to join her in conversation.
She broke the silence.
"Oooo, nice," she said.
Jarod looked up. She was looking at the television.
"Nice shot," she said, talking about the game.
Jarod was disappointed, having thought she was talking about him.
"Yeah," he stammered. "That guy can shoot the lights out."
She was already walking away.
What a bummer, Jarod thought to himself. Were women just turned off by a naked male stranger?
Twenty minutes went by, and Jarod had a few more drinks. He was getting drunk, but he still had hope for this evening.
Marcy walked in. Jarod caught a glimpse of the blonde beauty, dressed in jean shorts and a white top, but then looked away.
Same kind of deal - the woman walked up to the bar, Jarod keeping his eyes on the TV, and she ordered a pair of drinks.
Jarod heard the woman make a sound, like air coming out of her nostrils in a slight gasp. It was almost like she did it to get his attention, and he obliged by looking up. But he was too late. She was already heading back out to the dance room.
Shit, Jarod thought. Another blown opportunity. Over the next half hour or so, more women came in, and more women left.
Jarod's hesitance to make direct conversation with any of them didn't allow any talk to develop.
Finally, he saw Carrie, the first woman he saw that night, come back into the room.
He turned away, but he soon felt a tap on his shoulder.
He swung the bar stool around.
"Excuse me," said the girl. God, she was even hotter up close.
"My friends and I wanted you to know..."
